Unintentional
by JokerzCard
Summary: When a devious wingless fairy turns out to be more than the brothers bargained for, they strike a deal that takes them halfway across the country and closer to finding a mysterious serial killer. (A Size!fic)
1. Chapter 1: The Halfway Heist

No more mistakes. No more slip-ups.  
The council had made it clear that failure was not an option. Either she came back with the amulet, or she didn't come back at all.

Her targets were two humans. Brothers, roughly mid to late twenties. They were feared by her people and many more powerful creatures in the supernatural world. But the monsters they fought were nowhere near as subtle as she was; Ashling was confident they were unprepared for someone of her stealth and skill.

They were asleep. Now was the opportune time to strike.

She placed her hand on the glass of the window. It shattered into dust, the crystals blown away with a gust of induced wind. She climbed into the motel room via the wipsy curtains drawn shut. As she lowered herself one fistful of cloth after another, she thought absently what an ugly pattern it was. All their technology, and _this_ is what humans come up with?

With a small thump, she dropped the last few inches to the floor. The men didn't even stir. The fairy wrinkled her nose as she padded silently between the beds. It smelled like metal, greasy food, and a carpet that hadn't been washed since the 1970s.  
Looking between the two identical beds towering on either side, Ashling strode confidently to the left and leapt. Once again, her upper body strength was put to the test as she scaled the bed. She was so out of breath by the time she reached the top, she wanted to cry. _I miss my wings._  
But laying there in a pathetic heap wouldn't bring them back. Ash heaved herself to her feet on the spongey surface of the mattress and turned around.

There he was. They both looked so peaceful like this. Like little boys. Well, not _that_ little. On literal terms, these humans were larger than most she encountered. Their bodies just seemed to go on and on and on…  
Ashling turned her back on the one with shaggier hair, and approached his brother. The man's eyelids fluttered as she scaled his shoulder and took careful steps across his chest. Immediately, she paused. She did _not_ want to wake this guy.

Another step. The small fae gasped as the ground beneath her rose.  
"He's just breathing, Ash... Just breathing…"  
Can't let the nerves get to you.  
She remained still, arms out for balance as his chest rose and fell in a contented rhythm. Once she regained her bearings, she tiptoed upward.

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick..._  
The clock was obnoxiously loud. That, coupled with the wind storm of breathing from the two men, she could barely hear herself think. Finally, the metal pendant was at her feet. She picked it up and tugged.  
The leather knot under his head held fast.

"Dammit!" She cursed under her breath. He was wearing the amulet around his neck! Hence, making her job ten times harder.

"Uggh." She groaned, letting it drop. Ashling pulled out the serrated blade she kept on her belt, knelt down, and began sawing at the strap. She paused only once, when the other man mumbled in his sleep and rolled over.

A bright smile lit up her face as the string finally severed. She looked up and nearly dropped it. The target's face was only a few fairy-scaled feet away- nearly twice as long as she was and _far_ too close for comfort.

"Shit..." She laughed nervously at her own jitteriness. Pulling the string slowly out from under him, she tried to pretend that the hot air rushing over her wasn't the man's exhalation.

"Gotcha!" At last, she clutched the amulet victoriously to her chest, bouncing once.  
The man frowned faintly. Ashling barely had time to leap to the side before he reached up to scratch the area she had been occupying only moments before. She resisted the urge to scream when the massive being continued to turn onto his side, nestling into a more comfortable position on the mattress.

Half-tangled in the disturbingly warm sheets, the fairy scrambled backwards and dusted herself off. His expression was unperturbed again. He was asleep.  
Ash sighed in relief and smiled at her prize. The fairy gathered up the string and wrapped it around her like a shoulder strap, the amulet hanging at her waist like the oversized lucky charm it was. This was it... Her ticket home.

**_"Everybody's working, working for the weekend-" _**

Blaring music cut through the air, nearly giving her a heart attack. Half-way down the bedframe, she made an emergency stop on some type of clothing slung over the bedrail. She pulled a flap over her head, barely able to hang on as the bed quaked and shook violently. She quashed the instinctual fear that resided inside, replacing it with cold logic.  
_I can still get out of here. I just have to be fast and accurate._

He sat up, pounded the snooze button, and rubbed his eyes. Idiot didn't even notice his necklace was missing. Not that she wanted him to start poking around...

"Sam." He grunted. When his brother didn't respond, he pulled off a boot and threw it at his head. "Rise and shine."  
The reaction was immediate.  
"Ow! What the hell?"  
Her target smirked and dodged the shoe that came flying back at him.

Ash clenched her jaw and stayed put as there was suddenly movement all around. Both men woke up, getting out of bed and wandering into their morning routines. Who the hell gets up at five am, anyway? There was always one of them in the room. She could hear them, feel the vibrations of their footsteps travel from the floorboards through the metal bedframe. She was waiting, holding out for the right opportunity.

_Now!_  
She dropped to the floor and darted for the broken window, feet beating against the carpet.

"Dean, where did you put my iPod?" The fairy just barely managed to stop short when the other human turned around.  
_Dammit!_  
She swerved behind the leg of a chair. He passed by her, but she was still out in the open.

"What are you talking about? I don't want your lame tunes." The hinges of the bathroom door accompanied the addition of another loud male voice.  
"Well, it's not in my bag."  
"Did you leave it on the desk?"

It took a moment to remember she was _right in front of_ the desk. She looked around wildly for an escape from the increasingly close steps. A dangling sleeve caught her eye- There was a jacket! Hanging on the back of the chair. Ashling pushed herself to her limit, heaving herself upward until she was able to pull at the edge of the inviting pocket and slide down the rough walls of fabric. Ashling sat with bated breath in her denim refuge, listening as the heavy footsteps stopped right beside her. She could practically hear his breathing, even from in here. She gasped when he pushed the chair to the side a little. Luckily, he couldn't hear over his own search.

Papers rifling, frustrated breathing, then a small exclamation of satisfaction.

The footsteps retreated, but Ash didn't dare come out yet- the other man was back in the room. _Just great… _

"You find it?"  
"Yeah."  
"Good. Let's hit the road."

Ashling tensed as he got closer. Without warning, her world was turned on its side. Up was down; down was seemingly whichever direction it felt like. Sounds of muted pain escaped her as she was tossed all about the confines of the pocket. All she could hear was denim shifting, sliding, and shifting again against something.

Finally it was still again. Ashling lay face-down at the bottom. With a faint groan, she turned onto her side and struggled to right herself. It was embarrassingly difficult to even sit up straight; every time the man took a step, the pocket swung and collided with a wall behind her. _Good Lord, that's his chest._

She was sick to her stomach, but not from the topsy-turvy motion. Dean was _wearing_ the jacket. There was literally no chance of her escaping unnoticed now. She was trapped.


	2. Chapter 2: Accidental Stowaway

_Don't move. Keep breathing... Don't move._

Ashling chanted this internal mantra to herself the entire journey. The man she was accidentally hitching a ride with really didn't seem to feel her at all. Ash couldn't decide whether that was actually comforting or not. She didn't want to die at his hands, of course, but was she really that insignificant? Just a tiny lump in a jacket compared to a human being?  
_Quit it, you're freaking yourself out more._

The two men were talking on and off. The car stopped. Something like a small machine whirring sounded out, and following she could vaguely hear the outside world no longer quite as muffled by the car. Then he shouted something, but she didn't really focus on what; she was too distracted by how freaking LOUD his voice was. It was inescapable, filling the air around her. Thank God for the slight protection of the denim wall between them. Her ears were still ringing when the car returned to motion again.

"A number one, no mustard, and a number seven with diet cola. Your total today is seven forty-seven."

Ash slid to the opposite corner of the pocket when the driver shifted in his seat so he could dig something out of his jeans pocket. This left her a bit more closely pressed than she had been before. Her face scrunched up like it was physically painful for her to be this close to a human. Ash thought her reaction was entirely appropriate; this "Dean" was a vicious killer, after all.

Dean flipped through the last few bills in his wallet. He'd plan to hustle a game or two soon. He removed a ten and handed it to the drive-through employee. Sam checked through their order to make sure it was correct.

"Two fifty-three is your change. Have a great day!" She was far too cheerful to be working at a rinky-dink burger joint before the sun fully rose.  
"Thanks." Dean hastily folded the bills away and stepped off the brake.

The smell of food gradually permeated her prison. But it wasn't mouth-watering. It smelled like cooked flesh. Even hunters had to eat, she supposed.  
_Friggin' carnivores._

In the blink of an eye, light flooded all around her. Her body went rigid, certain he had discovered her. But she was wrong. He dropped his wallet into the pocket as he merged back onto the highway. Ash gasped involuntarily- it landed on her leg. She clasped a hand over her mouth and looked up toward the opening. It was closed again, and he seemed relatively relaxed. So she was safe…. For now, anyway.

Ashling clenched her jaw in discomfort, but was afraid to try and free her leg until he moved again. The wallet moving could be blamed on gravity. She gave her leg one sharp tug. The weight was relieved off of her, but the angle of the pull caused the wallet to slump against her diagonally. She tried to push it away, but the car had grown quiet, save for the crinkling of paper. Ash carefully fell still, allowing the leather object to press her more against the man's chest. This was annoying, humiliating, and terrifying.

At least she still had the amulet.

"Would it be so much to ask for one home cooked meal once in a while? Just one."  
Dean unwrapped his cheeseburger with less fervor than usual.  
"Keep dreaming." Sam did the same for his grilled chicken sandwich and soon after resigned to watching the suburban businesses dwindle to nothing but trees.

Although it was muffled, Ash received a filtered version of the conversation from the pocket. his movements were noticeable, every time he went to take a bite. She could almost feel the man_swallowing_. Ew!

_The amount of meat he must take in one bite... The size of freaking cows in the first place! I think I'm going to hurl._

On the bright side, he wasn't walking anymore, so she wasn't constantly bumping into him.

_  
Ashling opened her eyes with a start. She felt rested… Shit.  
_I fell asleep! How could I have done something so stupid?_

It was uncomfortably warm now. It would be stifling soon. How long had it been? An hour? Two? A quiet fear settled into her bones: when exactly would her escape opportunity arrive? When he took off his jacket again? She had no idea when that would be, and the longer she was a sitting duck, the more chance there was for something to go wrong. For him to crush her by mistake or worse- discover his accidental stowaway.

_He's going to kill me if he finds me. Probably enjoy it, too, the bastard._

For the time being, she waited.


	3. Chapter 3: Discovered

"...So the guy just, what? Vanished into thin air?"  
"Seems like it."  
"Sounds like a load of bull to me. But we'll stop by, just to be sure."

The sound of tires speeding against hot pavement became white noise.

"Toll booth in a mile. Let me see if I've got some quarters..." Sam arched his back a bit so he could squeeze his hands into his jeans pockets.  
"I got it." Dean waved off his efforts. Maintaining a healthy 78 mph, he reached into the outer breast pocket of his jacket to retrieve his wallet.

Ashling tried in vain to evade his fingers, but the pocket was just too cramped with his hand jammed in there; she had no where to go. She was pinned to the wallet as he grabbed her along with it. His thumb was pressing so hard it was painful, and she wondered how easily vertebrae were dislocated.

A short, deep exclamation of surprise thundered above her. Just as suddenly, she was released and the huge hand withdrew. Ash fell back to the bottom, tumbling against the side of the wallet without grace.

Dean stared down at the pocket flap, aghast.  
"What's wrong?" Sam recoiled.  
"There's something in my pocket!"  
"What.. uh, Other than your wallet?"  
He received a scathing look from his brother.  
"Seriously?" As if he would really react like his to his wallet alone...

Adrenaline surged through her system. This was it. She was going to die.

Dean switched hands on the wheel and jammed his hand inside, grabbing the top of the wallet and discarding it hastily on the edge of the seat.

He glanced up at the exit signs passing, then reached into the pocket again, trapping the weird little thing in a tight fist.  
"Dean!" Sam shouted, voice escalating with a new concern. The car was swerving back and forth between the lanes.

"Gotcha." He pulled it out, but didn't get a good look at it. His distracted driving had put them in the center of the other lane!  
"Eyes on the road!" Sam lunged to correct the wheel. Still clutching the thing in one hand, Dean grabbed the wheel and abruptly pulled over to the side of the road. The men were bounced by the rocky terrain, the high speed making Sam grip the side of the door with white knuckles.

He put it in park with a loud sigh of relief. In the newfound stillness, they leaned in as Dean opened his hand.

After hours confined to a cramped, dark space, Ash felt completely exposed. She made an involuntary moan of disdain in reply to the warm flesh supporting her. The vulnerability of sitting in a larger being's palm rivaled being naked before them;It was embarrassing and horrifying at the same time.

It was so quiet. Her ears still complained from how loud his initial reaction had been. But they were silent now. It was a surreal moment when she leaned back and met each of their bewildered gazes in turn. Every fiber of her being was tensed, chest heaving- awaiting them to cut her into little pieces or something of the sort.  
But they just..._ Stared._

"I.. Don't... I mean, is that what it looks like?" Sam sputtered. Dean frowned, lifting it up for close inspection. Ash held her breath so she wouldn't scream when her stomach dropped about five stories below and all too soon the hunter's face filled her vision.

The last time they had been face-to-face, he had been fast asleep; but he was definitely wide awake now; those bright jade eyes were open and locked on her.  
"It's a, uh...tiny... chick." He gave her a quick once-over. Definitely a chick. Kinda hot, too, if you were into that sort of thing.  
Dean narrowed his eyes at a familiar shape hanging from her waist. "Hang on."

He patted the spot on his chest where his amulet always hung. He glanced down at himself, even checking under his shirt. Dean raised his eyebrows at her sharply. Ashling smiled nervously. _Crap._

"Shouldn't take things that aren't yours, sweetheart."  
The way he said it sent a vigorous chill up her spine, raising the hair on the back of her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut when the other huge hand swooped down and tried to wrestle the knot out of the leather cord. She could feel his frustration. Her back arched when he missed and fingernails scraped her abdomen. He must have noticed, because the looming presence of the other hand ebbed.

No sooner had she opened her eyes than she was soaked by a stream of water.  
"Hey!" She swiped water out of her eyes and pushed her drenched bangs aside.

"Not a demon." Sam muttered, screwing the cap back on the travel-sized bottle holy of holy water. Ash looked down at her sopping-wet top.

_Well, if this isn't the cherry on a perfect day._

Wiping her eyes, the fairy raised her head (to say what moron would mistake her for a friggin demon!). But a silver knife unsheathed not an inch from her chest, effectively stunning her into silence. She closed her eyes and turned away, face screwed up so much it hurt.

The cold metal of the blade grazed her abdomen, like death inching its way along her body. She lay on her back, the heat of his pulse suddenly stifling, pounding in her ears in competition with her own heartbeat.

With a flick of his wrist, Dean cut the cord. Her eyes snapped open as she felt his massive hand crowding her space again, the stolen necklace being pulled slowly but surely from around her waist. Ashling rapidly studied his face, then his brother's; she came to a revelation.

They didn't know what she was. They obviously weren't sure what to do with her, but they certainly didn't have it in them to kill an apparently helpless, four-inch woman.

Which gave her the upper hand.

Dean pocketed the necklace safely into his jeans. He looked up when he felt the miniature woman quivering in his hand. Her little chest was rising and falling rapidly. On the verge of hyperventilating if she kept that up. "W-w-what-what's h-happening to me?" Her cheeks were already wet from water, but it was clear she was crying.

Her pathetic sniffling made him glance to Sam for help, but his brother hadn't any more idea what to do than he did.

Dean swallowed the seed of compassion. "Caught in the act."

Her eyes went wide. "What?"

"-Or did it just happen to tie itself around your waist?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about! I have no idea..." She exclaimed in between labored breaths. "One minute, I'm brushing my teeth, the next I'm in hippie clothes, surrounded by giants!" She looked between them, imploring for a shred of understanding. "Please... I'm an elementary school teacher!"

Dean looked skeptical, but began to consider the possibility. They had seen some pretty weird shit in their time.

"So... basically, you're saying something _shrunk_you?"

"I guess! I don't know..."

"Did you see or feel anything... Unusual?" Sam tried. Going through the normal victim routine was helping him to approach the situation logically and keep his cool.

She shook her head, then frowned in recollection.

"I thought I saw my shadow _move. _."

They stared at her stonily.

"Maybe I'm going crazy..." Ash curled inward, doing a poor job of getting her breathing under control as she took in the scale of things.

"What's your name?" Sam took a deep breath and tried to address her like he would any victim of a supernatural creature. Ash spewed the first name that came to mind.

"Morgan Lemore."

"Okay, Morgan. Just take a deep breath."

The tiny woman took his advice, sniffling dying down. Dean looked uncomfortable.

"Let's get to San Diego and book a room for the night. Give Bobby a call." He decided, moving his hand towards Sam. "Here."

Ash took the cue and scooted into the new palm. She shyly raised her eyes to the new giant holding her, offering the tiniest of grateful smiles. He took his own turn to marvel at the sensation of a tiny woman sitting in his hand, the bizzare intricacies he could feel.

The engine turned over and Dean shifted gears. The impala roared back into motion, merging back onto the highway. Sam bet even Bobby was going to be thrown for a loop with this one.

The poor thing clapped her hands over her ears from the engine noise. Sam realized sounds must be magnified to her, too.

"I'm sorry. This is weird for both of us." He cracked a tentative smile at her, lowering his hand into his lap.

"You have no idea." Her reply was barley heard, like a bitter laugh.

She instinctively gripped his skin for support whenever they tok a slight curve, or when they ran over a pebble- only to remember she was sitting on a massive hand and quickly curl her knees back to her chest. Sam felt his heart soften at the sight of her fretting. Dean kept glancing over periodically; as if seeing her for the twelfth or thirteenth time would provide some sudden illumination.

After nearly an hour, her tiny frame relaxed back against him limply, seemed to drift off into a light doze. Gently, Sam raised his other hand to trail a curious finger down her side.

Ashling smiled behind closed eyes.

_Suckers._


	4. Chapter 4: Morgan, Morgan

"Slow down, boy, yer not making any sense!"

Dean leaned away from the phone to growl in frustration.  
"I found a freaking borrower in my jacket, Bobby! I can't put it any more simply than that."  
"Hell..." Bobby's stunned silence was not reassuring.  
Sam motioned for Dean to hold the phone closer to him. "Is there anything out there that can, um… shrink people? She mentioned seeing her shadow moving."  
"Nothing that I've ever heard of. Vetala venom reduces the size of the victim's bladder long enough to permeate the system… But there ain't anything that fits that description. "

They couldn't hide their disappointment.

A staticky breath came through the speaker: "This don't make a lick of sense."  
"Tell me about it." Dean rubbed his temples. "As far as weird cases go, this takes the cake. We'll try to get more details outta her when she wakes up."  
"I'll keep diggin'. In the meantime, you best keep an eye on her." Bobby said.  
On cue, the boys looked over to where the tiny woman lay unconscious on a pillow.  
"Will do." Dean pressed 'end call' and dropped the flip-phone into his jeans pocket.

Her jaw was relaxed, her brows unknit. The "peaceful breathing" routine was pretty easy to keep up, but Ash had to really work at keeping her train of thought from showing on her face. She could feel one of them watching her at almost any given minute, both sometimes. She knew they weren't going to hurt her, because they believed she was one of their own kind. As reassuring as it was to make fun of them to herself, Ashling knew they weren't stupid. It was only a matter of time before they figured her out.

"I'll run the name through missing persons database." Sam pushed himself to his feet, then stopped short. Dean whirled from his seat on the edge of the bed, following his gaze. The girl was sitting up, staring at the pair of them with wide eyes.

"Hey there," Sam greeted her, lowering his voice like he was trying to coax a kitten into the light. "Sorry if we woke you-"  
"AHGERAWAYFROMMEH!" She squealed something incoherent and scrambled backward. He started to reach for her, but she lost her footing and slid off, landing in the shady crevice between the two pillows.

"Oi…." Dean muttered.  
Her body went rigid when a giant hand slid down from above, picking her up like she weighed no more than a grape. Her stomach was left far below as he lifted her up to chest level, trying to address her more like an equal.

"Take it easy. We're not going to hurt you, remember?" Dean tried a softer expression. Apparently, it didn't work very well.  
"Put me **down**!" She screamed, pushing at his coiled fingers with all her might. In his effort to be gentle, he gave her too much leeway. She pulled her knees up and used his bent middle finger as a stepping stone to escape his grip.

"Whoa! Just-unh- hang on a second!"  
She was fast for a tiny thing! Dean hastily adjusted his grip, and added a second hand to extend the platform when she tried to leap off a second time. When she continued to squirm violently., he trapped her between both hands. He could still feel her little fists pounding in vain, searching for a way out.  
"Stop it! Let me go!" His heart twisted at how terrified she was.

"Dean.. Maybe you should put her down." Sam stepped in, sitting down near his brother to get a better look.  
"I will when she stops making suicide leaps!"  
"Shh!" Dean would have snapped at him for hushing him, but let it go, given the situation.

"Morgan." The other hunter's voice permeated her prison of flesh. Ash could see him leaning down towards her in her mind's eye, given the volume of his voice. Oh right, that was her name. She stopped moving around for a moment, listening. "We're trying to help you, but you have to calm down for that to work, do you understand me?"

Ash grunted, but they didn't hear her. She glared at the back of a ring he was wearing, visible from her crouched position. _God, it's hot in here._

When she stopped panicking, Dean cautiously lifted his upper hand. The cool air was like the breath of heaven. This time, she was prepared for the sight of two colossal human beings staring down at her. The younger one gave her an encouraging smile, reassuring her that she had made the right decision in trusting them.  
_Sweet kid. Bad judge of character._

"I'm Sam." He introduced himself. "This is my brother, Dean." She glanced over her shoulder at the blonde hunter currently scrutinizing her with a heavy gaze.  
"How can you possibly help me? I mean… Look at me!" She threw her arms up, gesturing to her size.  
"We can track down whatever changed you and reverse the effects. We're hunters, it's what we do."

_They make it sound so noble. I bet they think they're heroes._  
"You think some type of animal did this?" Her annoyance with the tediousness of this conversation slipped through, but they attributed it to nerves.  
"Honestly? No." The other voice rumbled. She tilted her head, looking at the vast torso looming behind her. "There are legit reasons to be afraid of the dark, and it's not a frickin' elk."  
She shifted in his palm. "So.. what, monsters?" She laughed nervously. They didn't smile, and her look dropped. "Oh my gosh…"  
Ash took a moment, pretending to her flabbergasted by this notion. _They're still staring… Am I accepting the whole "monsters exist" thing too easily?_  
They watched her, utterly intrigued despite their professionalism. Her bangs shifted when she lifted her gaze again, a new resolve in her voice.

"What do you need to know?"


	5. Chapter 5: Snap!

In return, she learned that they were born in Kansas, they'd been hunting since they were children and the pay was crap. It was harder to look them in the eyes and pretend to care when all she wanted to do was spit in their eyes.

Yet, there were two things that kept nagging at her the whole night.

One, that she was afraid. She was putting on a good show of pretending to be astonished that she was four inches tall... But that wasn't all an act. She knew what they were capable of and they werent shy about their disdain for the supernatural world. Just _one_ of the men would have outmatched her in size and strength. She had two on her hands.

And secondly, that she wasnt really angry. Not at them. She found excuse after excuse to be pissed at them: The way their hands sometimes moved when they talked, their self-righteous attitudes, their egos and superiority complexes- even the plaid pattern of Sam's shirt. But the truth was, she was angry at herself. She had sealed her own fate. She was just prolonging the inevitable with this masquerade. By now, the council surely knew she had failed her assignment. There would no point in going back, lest she wanted to add public humiliation onto banishment.

For a split second, she wished that she really was Morgan Lemore from Chicago, Ohio. That woman had a loving husband who would be worried sick about her. A meaningful job, with young minds to influence and depend on her. A family.

The brothers had been kind enough to set her up a sort of makeshift bed with two of their own shirts folded up on the nightstand. They were clean, supposedly, but Ash could still detect a vaguely familiar odor. She nearly groaned aloud when it hit her that she had smelled something similar when she was stuck in that one hunter's pocket. _I'm gonna have to shower for a week to get the stink of egotistical douchebag off me._

It took hours of waiting, but they both finally were in bed.

"Hey," She called softly. "Guys?"  
No reply.

"_Finally!_" Ash slipped out of the over-sized shirt and paced to the edge of the nightstand. With a running leap and a sparse bit of incantation, she landed on the mattress by his arm. She climbed onto his forearm without hesitation, using the extra elevation to pull herself onto his abdomen. It was still rather disorienting to be walking across a living, breathing person like a catwalk. Instead of hitting solid ground, each step sank into muscle and skin and threatened to throw her off balance. The denim of his jeans was a bit sturdier. She blushed at how close she was to his crotch and hastily made her way to the right side pocket she had seen him stuff the amulet into earlier. She dropped to her hands and knees and crawled toward the dark crevice of the jeans pocket and leaned inside.

Her patience paid off: the leather cord brushed her fingers. Smiling now, she leaned in just a little further. Her fingers wrapped around something small and metal. It was cold to the touch, but it began to warm. "Ow!" She gasped loudly, pulling her hand back. It had burned her!

_Iron! Who keeps iron in their pocket anyway?_

She got her answer moments later when she was thrown forward- the man beneath her sitting bolt upright. Immediately, sturdy fingers surrounded her in a vice grip. He was so strong! He had never been this hard before. Fabric shuffling, shifting. Springs of the mattress groaning. She could practically feel her brain lurching against her skull as she was lifted upward.  
Dean had always been intimidating, but this fierce scowl made him downright terrifying. Her eyes widened as she realized he had been anticipating this. She had played right into his hands, literally. Green eyes glinted. He squeezed tighter. Ash coughed, choked nearly. She could barely breath, and couldn't even begin to wriggle.

"You've got five seconds to tell me what the hell you are before I snap you like a toothpick."


	6. Chapter 6: Little White Lies

"Who are you?" Dean demanded. He shook his fist a minute amount, but it was still more enough to rattle her cage. Ashling was ashamed of the pathetic noise that came out of her mouth.

"Ease up. You're suffocating her."

Sam had been lightly dozing, but didn't seem at all surprised at the scene before him. He reached over and switched on the lamp before going over to Dean's bedside.

_He's in on this?_

Ash collapsed to her hands and knees as the hunter shifted his grip to an open palm. Her head hung as she sucked in large gulps of air, her lungs searing.

"I'm... I'm sorry-" She panted, slowly looking up. Dean stared her down.

"No, you're not." He sat up a little straighter, and his scowl faded to a stern expression. He seemed slightly more at ease now that he had gotten his point across: they were not to be screwed with.

"I was just curious!" Ash made one last plea in Morgan Lemoore's name.

"Don't give me that 'wounded kitten' look. We both know that's a lie."

Her eyes widened as her fate sank in. _Oh God… They know._

Sam retrieved his laptop from across the room and pulled up a web page featuring the profile for a balding, man named Morgan Lemoore.

"The name you gave us only has one match in that zipcode. And unless you lost a lot of weight..."

Ashling leaned forward to get a better view. Realization dawned. She had underestimated them.

"The fact that you think Chicago is in Ohio was another hint." Sam added.

A puzzled look flickered through her eyes. It wasn't?

There was a moment of silence when Sam shut the laptop and returned it to the desk. Ashling made a desperate leap for the bedspread. No sooner had she landed, than the same hands crashed down around her, smothering her between them and lifting her back into the air with no effort on his part.

"Let me GO!"

"Hey!" Dean shot back, the volume of his voice shaking her eardrums. "When I pop outta _your_pocket, claiming to be someone I'm not, then you can make demands. But right now you need to shut up or start giving me answers."

She knew she didn't really have a choice. Her ribs throbbed in a painful recollection of how easily he could change tactics. Deep breath.

"My name is Ashling."

It was a weight off her shoulders to be straight-forth, even though the utterance was her death sentence.

The brothers were deadly quiet, barely even breathing so as to hear her clearly. Sam leaned towards her as she opened her mouth again.

"I'm a... A haldja."

"What?" Dean brought her close to his face and tilted his head to the side. Ashling raised her eyebrows in mild alarm as his face was suddenly inches away, his ear pointed near her. She fell back to a kneeling position.

"_Hal-dja_." She repeated, enunciating clearly without the Celtic undertone. She could sense Sam leaning over too; the way the light changed. It was annoying and terrifying all at once. She clutched her stomach as the hand dropped again and Dean raised his head. He glanced sidelong at his younger brother, who wore an identical puzzled expression on his face.

"A 'haldja'? I don't even know what that is-"

"I'm a fairy." Ash said flatly. She had thought perhaps two experienced hunters might know her species by its actual name. Guess again.

He arched a brow curiously, scrutinizing her with a newfound intent.

"No way." Dean said with a tone of finality, slowly turning his hand to look at her back. She was lying again, according to his experience. She had to be something new.

"But I-"

"I've seen a fairy.. And she was a lot less...um, covered. Besides, aren't you missing something?"

He made a small motion to the small of her back. Fairies her shape and size had wings... Right?

"It's the truth! I promise!" She insisted.

"Prove it."

Ashling could feel his tendons tighten beneath her, his thick fingers curling inward again. Without a word to defend herself, she repositioned herself so her back was facing him.

She tugged on a zipper so minuscule, they didn't even know it was there. Dean's undivided attention was silently focused on the tiny girl as she reached behind and began to take off her top. He hadn't been expecting a peep show to result of this interrogation, but he wasn't objecting.

One slender arm was removed, then plastered across her chest to keep the top covering her breasts as she took out her other arm. Sam quietly sank down to a kneeling position by the bed.

Her back was now fully exposed. Her bare skin was immaculately smooth to the point where it seemed to glow in the yellowish incandescent lighting. The feminine curve of her back ended in two dot-sized sacral dimples (Perfect for a tramp stamp, Dean couldn't help but think in the back of his mind).

But what captured their attention was the scarred flesh in the center. There were four nubs, each approximately one to two millimeters in length. Two on ether side of her spinal cord, symmetrically placed. Though it was hard to tell such intricate detail, they appeared to be a thicker, more fibrous material than , she had once had wings. But what was left looked dead. The hardened, brownish-black coloring made it look like she had slivers of beef jerky growing from her back.

Dean mentally bashed himself for his last comment about her "missing something".

"Whose bad side did you get on?" He asked. He wasn't going to buy into a another sob story, but he was reverent to what looked like a very painful loss.

Warm waves of the deep voice made goosebumps rise on her bare skin. They waited patiently for an answer, but the fairy just sat there in grim silence. Dean pursed his lips and went to try again when she finally answered.

"The government." The words felt like thick, bitter paste on her tongue. She reached around again and slid her arms back into the sleeves, securing the zipper. Her face pounded bright red. She was embarrassed, scared, and as vulnerable as can be. And angry. She was so _angry_ at herself.

Sam assumed the punishment was due to stealing, if her behavior with them had been any indication. Dean wasn't a huge fan of the United States government, but he felt a fleeting gratitude that a highway patrolman couldn't cut his balls off for speeding or something.

So fairies weren't all 'faith, trust, and pixie dust' after all. Surprisingly, that came as a relief to him. He was used to brutal realities.

"What's so great about my amulet worth risking your life?"

"It doesn't matter now." She replied vaguely.

Dean sighed in aggravation. He had bigger fish to fry than deal with a stupid fairy.

"Alright, you know what? I'm done."

Her stomach leapt upward into her throat when the hunter holding her stood up- nearly knocking her on her side with the momentum.

He closed his fist around her again. Ashling never thought she would be one to cry, but a couple hot tears leaked down her cheeks as her ribs strained and her arms were forced together at an awkward angle. She was going to die. Every step he took shook her bodily, reminding her how insignificant she was to them. No one would miss her. No one would look for her. And what was her legacy? A web of lies.

Dean opened the window and tilted his hand over the bushes outside.

"Say 'hi' to the Keebler elf for me."

Ashling scrambled backward against the pull of gravity and latched onto the webbing between his finger and thumb.

"Wait!" She screeched, feeling the open air around her, ready to consume made a face and shook his hand a little, successfully loosing her grip. She slid against the dry texture of his palm, to where it separated into four fingers. Desperately, she fastened herself onto his middle finger, wrapping both arms and legs around it.

"Please! I can't leave without it."

"Not my problem."

Ashling squeezed her eyes shut as her head spun with every shake of his hand, like a whirlpool of air around her ears. He pulled his hand back inside and soon enough strong fingers pried her from his other hand.

"You need me!" She tried one last attempt. She couldn't leave now. Dean raised his eyebrows, dangling her in front of his face by her waist.

"Oh yeah?" He was trying not to laugh.

"I can help you. I can paralyze demons."

She had their attention now. Ash took deep breaths and steeled her nerves as she was deposited in his palm again, before his terrifying gaze.

"How?"

"It's a defense mechanism. All fairies have it."

His contemplation involved exchanging skeptical expressions with Sam and weighing the fairy in his palm.

"This is nuts…" He shook his head.

"But Dean, if there's a chance she's telling the truth-"

"Come on- Seriously?"

"We can use all the help we can get! Crowley's on our tail, who knows how close?"

Dean opened his mouth to retaliate, but the look in Sam's eyes got him to shut up. He was right. Dammit.

"Fine!"

Ash flinched when he shoved the window shut with a huff and stormed back around to the bed. "But you're playing by our rules, got it? No more of this creeping around in my pockets." The tiny woman nodded meekly. Her ears were still ringing from how loud he had been. Her head throbbed, making her clutch her temples and fall to her side on the course texture of his palm.

_I still have a chance to… Who am I kidding? This is a mess. What have I gotten myself into?_

They continued to talk overhead, and probably to her at some point or another. Ashling hoped they would be understanding that she blacked out then and there.


	7. Chapter 7: Trust, or lack thereof

She heard the voices before she saw them.

The hunters.

"…visions again, are you?"

"No."

"Premonition?"

"_No_." Sam rolled his eyes, aggravated.

Her eyes snapped open when she realized she virtually couldn't move. They were close, but their backs were to her, and she watched warily as they continued their conversation.

**Thump.**

Dean rested his hand on the table. Ashling's eyes went round from how close it was.

"No psychic crap at all?"

"You know, Dean," Sam turned around from packing up his meager supply of clothing into his bag. "It _is_ possible for me to have just a normal, run-of the mill dream."

Ashling wriggled side to side, but it was no use. A silver strip was plastered from her chest to her ankles, pinning her to the table.

Dean's lips turned at the corners- a successful attempt to irritate his little brother further.

"Mm...Doesn't sound like you."

He drummed his fingers absent-mindedly, the tendons tightening and relaxing. He lifted his hand an inch, and Ashling got hopeful, but he set it down again. His little finger brushed the tape covering her arm. If he only leaned a small fraction of his weight... She shuddered to think of the outcome. Didn't he know she was there? Was she going to die because of sheer carelessness?

_Hell no._

"Dean!" It felt odd to say his name. But it got his attention.

They stopped talking abruptly and turned on her.

"Looks who's up." Dean masked his lingering awe for the fairy with indifference. He pulled the tape off the table, and her along with it.

She made a face of mild distaste as she was brought close to eyelevel so he could pry the sticky duct tape off her front. She grunted when it was finally off, though there was a residue left on her pants.

"You taped me to a table?"

"Had to make sure you wouldn't go anywhere you're not invited." Dean discarded the tape and held her in one hand. Out of somewhere in-between stubbornness and a healthy fear of the man holding her life in his hand, Ash tried to avoid looking at either of them. Easier said than done. Sam's type of gaze made her feel like a rare specimen under an ever-watchful microscope. She loathed it, but did her best to block him out.

"Have to admit, I'm a bit disappointed by the wake-up call."

"Tough." Dean said.

Sam cleared his throat. "You'll have to excuse us for not rolling out the welcome mat after your game of charades."

She pursed her lips for a moment, then tried a charming smile. "Gotcha going, though, didn't I?"

Dean's eyes narrowed. A moment later, she found herself returned less than gently to the table.

"Cute. But you're not getting out of the deal prematurely."

"Deal?" She quirked a brow.

"Yeah, you know... You stick around, help us gank some demons, I might change my mind about my amulet."

_Must have decided that for me while I was unconscious._

She crossed her arms across her chest, considering this "deal". She needed to do was cozy up to this douchebag and get him to trust her. A challenge, but not impossible.

"Hey, uh… You hungry?" Sam picked up a brown bag behind her and handed her a chunk of blueberry muffin that he had saved for her. Glancing just to the side, she now noticed he tried to make her a cup by cleaning out a toothpaste cap and filling it with water.

She motioned for him to hand it over. Ash hesitated before taking a bite, turning it over and giving it a cautious whiff for any type of drug or undesirable.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at Sam's lips. He glanced toward his brother, hoping he'd be impressed at the very least. Ash noticed, and silently marveled at how a man as big as building could resemble an eager puppy dog. Dean gave him a minimal nod. The kid had a soft heart.

Ashling took one satisfied bite, then another. The berries were mushy and more juice than fruit. But it was flavorful enough. And sweet.

"Well," said Dean. "Now that we've ruled out the case of The Incredible Shrinking Woman-" he gave Ash a pointed glance. "-we can get back to our witch hunt."

Ashling scooted backward as he sat down at the table and laid out a worn out journal.

"Dean, we've been following this serial killer for almost two weeks. All we're finding are hex-bag and mutilated bodies." Sam was looking down to finish adjusting his tie, as well as avoid his brother's hardened gaze.  
"You're saying we should just, what? Throw the towel in? Let more people die?"  
"No! But... Maybe.. we should let another hunter take over. We're trying the same thing over and over again with the same result."  
"No. I'm not ready to let this be the one that got away."

Sam stood, staring expectantly at the Dean.  
"You gonna try to pass as an FBI agent in jeans?" He asked, waiting for an explanation for why he wasn't getting dressed yet. Dean smiled.  
"Actually, I was thinking you could handle the preliminary chat on your own this time."  
Sam blinked. Trusting him on his own? That was rare.  
"Why? You got something better to do?" He asked suspiciously.  
"Someone's gotta stay, keep an eye on Tinkerbell here."

Ash looked up, miffed, and shot him a dirty look out of the corner of her eye.

"Wait, should't I stay if she's after _your_ amulet?" Sam pointed out, the constant voice of reason.

"Well, let's be honest here," Dean leaned back in his chair and gave him a "because I said so" look. "Between the two of us, I have more experience in dealing fairies."

Sam knew exactly what he was talking about, flashing back to that UFO case in Arizona.

"Dean, you thew her in a microwave."

Ashling nearly choked on sip of water. Dean turned to see the tiny woman staring at him with a mixture of horror and shock.

"Well, actually she flew in. I just….Yeah." He trailed off when his attempt to recover failed miserably.

"I'm just saying…She's already got past you twice. You might be losing your touch in old age."

Dean immediately got defensive. "I was asleep!"

"So?"

As they went back and forth, Ash set down the toothpaste cap and slowly slunk towards the back of the table. She hung off the edge, then dropped to the chair, where one of the hunter's bags lay open on the seat. Glancing under the table, she could see their postures hadn't changed, and they were still engrossed in their debate. She turned to the open bag and stepped amidst its cavernous contents.

_Come on, there has to be something useful in here. Leverage of some sort…_

Though the bag was made of woven fibers, the bottom of the bag appeared to be made of cool metal. Upon closer inspection,she saw it was separate from the bag itself, and recognized the device the taller hunter had pulled out the previous night to show her the picture of the real Morgan Lemore.

A balled up shirt bulked up a fair portion of the room. It got darker as she crawled deeper, shoving aside a switchblade as long as she was. At the very bottom, it appeared to be organized with two small boxes. Before she got to open, either, however, she realized the voices had stopped. Not a moment later, the air was seized from her lungs as the bag was picked up. Suddenly, light. A hand wrapped around her body.

"See? What did I tell ya?" Ashling dangled before those incessantly green eyes. "..Can't be trusted."

Sam knew when to pick his battles, and this wasn't one of them. "Alright." He said defeatedly. He threw on his discount sports jacket and finished fixing his hair back, completing the professional disguise. "Try not to pizza roll her."


	8. Chapter 8: Casual Interrogation

"Keeping an eye on her" turned out to be a casual interrogation. At least he let her move around on her own two feet.

Ashling passed the time by meandering around the motel room. Under Dean's close supervision of course. As annoying as it would be to have someone her own size hovering over her shoulder, it was infinitely worse having a humongous human shadow her. Every half a foot she padded across the carpet, there were a couple heavy footsteps like mini-earthquakes that followed. To give him credit, the guy kept his distance for he most part; at least three feet between them. He probably thought he was being subtle about it, but little did he know that nothing he did was small to her.

"Would you cut that out?" Her nerves had just about had it. Ash whirled around to glare at him. Finding him much bigger from this daunting floor angle, she immediately regretted that. She quickly lowered her eyes again with a new knot in her stomach.

"What?" He asked with mock innocence. She scowled at his shadow.  
"Tailing me like some.. creepy nanny!"  
"You're lucky to be walking at all after that crap you pulled."

That shut her up. She muttered something foreign out of his earshot and turned on her heel to continue her stunted self-tour of the room. The carpet gave little friction under her boots. Frustrating, too, was the length-came up to her ankles like a vast, unkempt lawn.  
"I'm just curious,okay?" Ashling yelled over her shoulder. "Besides, what could harm could I possibly do with a big scary hunter like you breathing down my neck all hours of the day?"

"Well, you know what they say… Curiosity killed the bitchy fairy."

Watching the tiny wingless fairy waltz around their motel room, Dean found it hard to believe she had ever got the best of him. He smiled in amusement when Ashling pulled up the bed skirt and made a face at the dusty underside before stepping back. She was pretty cute.

No- not cute. A menace.

Out of a desire for higher ground, Ash had taken to climbing the bedskirt. Her upper body strength had made the necessary upgrades over the months without wings, but even still... It was a long climb. And to her dismay, Dean came over and crouched down behind her. She paused, floral fabric in each hand, and twisted around to look up at his annoying big face.  
"Enjoying the view?"

He smirked. Dean avoided the question by asking one of his own.  
"How come you're not glowing?"  
"Glowing?" She grunted, returning to her slow but steady climb. "Oh... You mean my Ignitia. It's like a shield. We're born with it. Lights you up from the inside and protects you from everything from a splinter to Lyme disease."

Dean pursed his lips, a slight look of realization dawning. He never would have guessed it actually served a purpose like that... And that explained why the last one he met was naked. Why bother with clothes if you've got magic coming out of your pores?

"Neat. But you didn't actually answer the question. Where's your Igna-tia... Thing?"

"Ignitia." She corrected. "Lost it with the wings."

"..Sounds like you screwed up pretty bad."

Ashling took a larger gap between grab of cloth. She wanted to be on top of the bed already.  
"Wow, really?" She sneered.  
"Ooh, did i touch a sore spot? My bad."

More silence stretched out. Dean breathing through his nose. Ashling trying not to show how strenuous her undertaking was.

"Why do you want to go back to the people who handicapped you?" No sarcasm this time.

With an un-graceful noise of effort, Ashling heaved herself up upon the mattress. She lay on her back, eyes closed as she caught her breath. "They're my family." She opened her eyes at the ceiling. "It's not a great one but it's the only one I've got."

She expected a belittling comeback, but it never came. Dean found himself short of words. He didn't expect to relate to Ash on anything, but family backstabbing was something he'd certainly experienced. And he always forgave them. Even when there was more pain on the road ahead than goodness. There was a certain bitterness in her tone that made him falter, almost feel bad for her. Almost.

Ashling stood up and paced back to the edge. She looked down, looking tired already at the prospect of climbing back down. Dean just didn't have the patience to wait for that all over again.

"Come on, it'll take you an hour to get down." Dean reached for her with one of those huge, bone-crushing hands. Ashling stumbled backward, loosing a short, shrill yelp.

"Relax, it's a hand, not a butcher knife."  
"I'll take the knife!" She squeaked, curling up as tight as possible.

Dean stopped. She peeked open one eye to see him lowering his hand and scrutinizing her in a different way.  
"Please," she went on. "Can't we just talk here?"

Dean grunted, but sat down with a final dull thud that vibrated the bedframe. Not that he noticed. Her little shoulders slumped in relief. Dodged that bullet. _This time,_ her inner cynic piped up.

Standing there about a foot and a half apart, Ash looked ahead and found she was just about eye level with the man. Made it easier to summon courage when he wasn't looming over her.

"So," she heaved an overwhelmed sigh and planted her hands on her hips. "You and Uhm, Sam are being drug all over God's green earth by a witch?"  
"That's the gist."

Dean'a glint of fascination faded somewhat with the mention of this case, which had dead-ended them at every turn.  
"There's no pattern?" Ashling asked.  
"Besides being wealthy, the victims don't have anything in common. Same spell every time, but it's old black magic and virtually impossible to trace-" Dean caught himself mid-sentence. Was he really going on about his frustrations to a puny little fairy? He chuckled derisively. "No way.. you're not getting the inside scoop on nada. You just do what we tell you to do, capiche?"

"Would you tell Morgan?" Ashling clasped her hands together and batted her eyelashes, mimicking the false persona in a split second.  
"Why don't you go screw yourself." Dean replied evenly, despite the flicker of a smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Ashling grinned.  
"Maybe later. I'd rather see you and Sam chase your tails a while longer." She added a little snide smile. "It's cute."

Annoying him was the best she could do right now, because he had every other control over her life right now.

The look Dean threw her rivaled her own sarcasm. "So what did they nab you for, huh?"  
Her smugness vanished. So they were back to this. Ash crossed her arms defensively across her chest. "Wouldn't you like to know."  
"Didja steal from someone off and then piss em off? Not judging, just detecting a pattern-"  
"Could you just _drop it_?!" She raised her voice, making a quick, harsh motion with her hands. His light eyebrows went skyward, giving her a severe green-eyed stare. Touched a sore spot there. Good. As she stared at him with vivid pink cheeks, breathing heavily, a sudden guitar riff cut the tension. He looked down and patted his pockets. The noise got louder as he pulled out his cellphone. Sam's number lit up the caller ID. Dean gave the fairy one last glance before standing up to answer.

"What've you got?"  
"Not much more than the last four bodies we found. Killed by unidentifiable poison, no sign of breaking and entering… I'm actually going to be swinging by the motel in a few minutes. I need you to come down here and interview the witnesses.I got my foot in the door with this forensic specialist. She's going to give me full access to the lab but I have to be there in thirty minutes."  
Dean grinned at the mental image of Sammy working his adorable version of the Winchester charm on some nerdy lab tech.  
"That's great, but uh, I'm babysitting. Remember?"  
"Just bring her with you! Hide her or.. I don't know, something. I got to go." Sam whispered harshly over the line. Dean heard keys clinking on the other side.  
"Fine, fine lemme change. Hey- You get a single scratch on my baby, I'm going to use your ass as a- Sam?" Dean pulled away to see the call had been ended. He hung up on him!

A mere eight minutes later, Dean stepped out of the bathroom. He immediately looked at the bed, half-expecting it to be empty. But Ashling was still there, now lying on her back with her eyes closed and her hands folded serenely over her midsection. She hadn't moved an inch. Her eyes flicked open when she felt his annoying big steps come to a halt right next to her. Dean towered over her, his attention fixed on the tie he was fiddling with. She noted with vague amusement how he pursed his lips like he was trying to do a model pout while he concentrated hard like that. He looked damn fine in a suit… In a douchy sort of way of course.

And then he was done and those eyes were once again fixed dead center on her. "Hey," He said, crouching down and patting the edge of the bed. "Up and at em. Field trip time."  
Ashling sat up and looked up at his giant face with narrowed eyes. "I don't think so."  
"Oh. Yeah, sorry, it's not a question." Dean smiled, already knowing that he was going get his way. He reached for her again, and this time it was too fast for her to evade. His index finger was pressing just under her chest, and the ring he wore was pinching her uncomfortably somewhere lower. It didn't last long. She was tilted sideways as he slipped as much of his hand as he could into the breast pocket of his sports jacket, then released her. Ash was rocked along the narrow valley of coarse fabric as he stood.  
"Hey!" She yelled up at him. "I'm not just some toy you can put away when you feel like it."  
"You didn't have a problem stowing away in my pocket yesterday." He looked down toward the opening with little sympathy.  
"That.. That was an accident!" She stammered, cheeks igniting red.

She was so very, very pissed. Dean thought it was cute.


	9. Chapter 9: Driving me nuts

Dean sat across from Sandra Keller in the dining room of her sister's house. She believed him to be an FBI agent investigating the murder, so neither put up any protest to the series of questions he put them up to.

"I wasn't with him when it happened. We were talking on the phone... He started saying some weird things before the signal broke up."  
"Weird?" Dean pressed.  
"Yeah... He sounded scared, and he was looking for something. He kept saying 'where did I put it'."  
"Any idea what he was looking for?"  
Sandra shrugged her shoulders, looking up from her lap. "Steven had a lot of nice things. But the police said nothing was taken." She started to tear up again. "Why would someone murder him for no reason?"

Dean gave her a look of tight-lipped sympathy. "That's what we're here to find out. Did..."

He trailed off, wrestling with the tickling sensation that came from Ashling adjusting herself in his pocket. She felt him stiffen, and gave him an extra nudge for good measure. Sandra was now looking at Dean like she was seriously considering slapping his clean across the face.

"I'm sorry, is something funny about all this?"  
Recovering, Dean cleared his throat. "No ma'am. Sorry. Did Steven have any enemies?"  
"Huh?"  
"Anyone with a grudge against him? Someone that might have a reason to hurt him."  
"No. I mean he was a millionaire. But whoever did this isn't getting a lick of the money, you know? He was such a nice guy... He didn't even have any problems with rivals in the company."  
Sandra blew her nose noisily into a tissue, getting worked up the more she thought about it. He was losing her focus. Just as well, there was nothing further she could help with right now.  
"Thank you. I think that's everything I need." He slid a business card across the table to her. "Feel free to call me if you think of anything else." He gave the tearful woman one last look before standing up and taking his leave.

o-o-o-o

"Man, you gotta stop wiggling around in there." Dean exclaimed under his breath the moment he was out of the house.  
"What? I barely moved!"  
He pretended he hadn't heard her as he trotted down the last few steps to the sidewalk. Standing with his hands in his pants pockets, he gave the house one last scrutinizing glance. The little voice piped up again from the deaths of his coat pocket.  
"In case you were wondering, it sucks on my end, too."  
"I wasn't."

Dean finally looked down towards the pocket and added more kindly, "Just..hang in there. It won't be for much longer."

The swinging of his footsteps picked up, taking up a steady pace.  
"You're walking back?" She asked.

"No, I'm walking to the Burger Shack on the next block. Sorry, a eating a crime, now too?"  
Dean fought the urge actually growl in frustration. Sheesh, did everything bother her?

Ashling sank down to the bottom of the pocket and watched the line of light from above dance along the opposite wall of fabric. There was almost something pedantic about the constant rocking motion of Dean walking. She remembered how easily being stifled in a pocket had lulled her to sleep last time, so with that in mind, she fought the drowsiness that insisted itself inside. She knew he was dangerous. He just didn't feel that way at the moment.

Dean checked his phone again as he sat down at the picnic table with his paper bag of food. Still no word from Sam. A bit early to he expecting him to be back in touch, but something about this whole case had him on edge lately. Just this weird feeling in his gut.

"You hungry?" He asked his pocket.  
"A little." A sleepy voice answered.  
Dean reached into his breast pocket and pulled out wrapped his hand carefully around Ashling. She found herself released before him on a wooden table, somewhere with list s

He pulled out a silver wrapped sandwich, a paper cup of fries, and a couple of ketchup packets. Ashling stood well out of his way as his big hands invaded her space. Dean unwrapped his cheeseburger and dumped the fries out on top of a napkin. He sifted through for the tiniest excuse for a fry in the batch, then relocated it to a fresh napkin which was laid in front of her. Added onto that was a pinch of his burger and the bun.

"Here we go... You got your veggies, your protein, and some grain." he nudged the fries and the mini-burger respectively. "Well balanced American meal."

Dean sat back proudly and took a large bite of his cheeseburger.

"Do you always indulge in carnivorous sandwiches?" Ashling asked. She pointedly wrinkled her nose at the beef before picking up the fry and taking a dainty bite off the end.

Dean slowed his chewing, taking offense on the behalf of his favorite food. "What, you don't like cheeseburgers?"

"You kill animals and cook their flesh!" Ashling exclaimed in a hushed voice. "It's vile."  
Dean rolled his eyes. "I shoulda guessed you were one of those hippie vegan freaks."  
He plucked up the burger crumb he had offered her and popped it in his mouth. Ashling made a little gagging noise and Dean was highly tempted to flick her right off the table.

It was surprisingly cute, watching her sit down cross legged to munch on the French fry. She polished it off in under a minute, then went over and helped herself to another that was as long as her leg. She finished that one too, and Dean started to wonder when was the last time she had actually eaten.

Despite her apparently fervor out appetite, her stomach couldn't begin to rival Dean's and she finished first. Ashling wiped as much of the grease off on the napkin as she could, but her hands were still shiny from the fries. Hm. She cringed as Dean reached over her, grabbing the diet coke behind her and taking a long drink from the bottle. He capped it and set it back behind her. She smiled at the convenience and pranced over to lather her hands in the fat drops of condensation gathered towards the bottom of the drink. Feeling clean, she could now wander in peace. She ambled around the expansive table. It was easily as long as a football field to her. But she kept going, one foot in front of the other, leading her away from the huge hunter. She didn't mind talking to him so much even with the size difference... But she felt inexplicably awkward beingpresent while he ate. Maybe it had something do with the meat thing. Maybe because he shoved a fry longer than her into his mouth -whole- like it was nothing. Either way, she was well deserving of some space.

"Not so fast." All of a sudden, a white paper bag was dropped over her, trapping her in a fragile prison. She could see the shadow of Dean's huge hand holding the bag over her. Jerk.

"I'm not going stick around to watch you eat!" She said, ripping an exit out. Dean slapped the bag aside and made a grab for her. He snatched empty air as Ashling jumped off the edge. His eyes went wide and he slid to the end of the bench, expecting to find her tiny corpse broken on the ground.

She slid down the thick metal pole that supported the table top, and landed in the thigh-high grass below. The world looked bigger from down here. But more natural too. Made her a little homesick, looking at the sprawling roots of the oak tree shading the table.

"Seriously? You're going to try and outrun me?" Dean asked, unimpressed by this escape tactic.

She didn't answer, just kept walking through the grass.

"You can walk for an hour. I'm just gonna catch up to you in five steps." Dean sneered and shook his head at her tiny receding back. He started to get up after her, but stopped himself. He thought about how she had been crammed in his pocket for the last hour and a half. He was beginning to feel like like a prison guard. He kept his eyes on the tiny woman and let her get a head start.

Bzzzz. Dean picked up his phone: A text from Sam.

-something new. Where are you?

Dean glanced up at Ashling before sliding open his phone and texting his location. Something new. That meant something about this victim veered away from the witch's patten. He felt a grim satisfaction in this knowledge. Wait long enough, they start getting sloppy.

Ash ran a hand along the bark of the tree roots. Humans mistook it to be rough, but it was actually made of hundreds of thousands of intricate patterns. Nature was so beautiful. She leaned way back to look up at the sun-stained silhouette of the leafy canopy far overhead. Maybe she couldn't outrun Dean, but if he couldn't find her... Yes, that was perfect! She just needed to find a good spot to hide.

A distinct squeaky chattering behind her made the wingless fairy stiffen and whirl around.  
"H-hey there, big boy.." She said nervously. Big, beady black eyes blinked and leered at her. It hopped forward, rising up on its hind legs.  
"Shit." She plastered herself back against the base of the tree, hoping the squirrel was just curious. That was a joke. Squirrels were like rats with furry tails- only survival in their book.

"HEY!" Dean bellowed.  
The ground suddenly shook as he leapt to his feet. Ashling clutched the tree tighter as the gigantic human pounded over. The squirrel leapt right over her head in panic and scurried up the oak. She found it hard not to sympathize with it as the hunter stood over her so menacingly. So devastatingly huge.

"You okay?" He asked, quieter. Ashling watched him fold up into a crouch- still the size of a house to her. Her chest rose and fell with greedy gulps of oxygen.  
"I'm fine." She said, not sure how to reply to the way he was looking down at her.  
Suddenly, Dean laughed, real deep and loud to her ears.  
"What?" She put her hand on her hips.  
"Nothin', nothin'..." He giggled. "It's just... Little miss big and bad over here gets stopped by a squirrel."  
She blushed and changed he subject.  
"Come on... You're not going to just -whoosh- snatch me up?"  
"Depends. You're not gonna bite me, are you? Cos I'm pretty sure Rocky there hasn't had a rabies shot."  
Ashling cracked an appreciative smile at the joke, even though she missed the old television reference. Dean lowered his hand and she stepped on of her own accord this time.  
"Don't tempt me."

Author's Note:

I'm starting to take this story less seriously than at first. Not in a bad way, bun just willing to make it more silly I guess. Nothing is set in stone, so if you have any suggestions or burning desires for some type of situation or interaction leave me a comment and I'll write it in!


End file.
